Actaeon's Defense 



IPS 3545 

1614 
IP3 

1906 
[Copy 1 



And Other Poems by 

ALICE WILSON 




Class :&.SMii5_ 
Book! ^ 1 4 A 
Coipght]^". ' 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Acteon's Defense 



and Other Poems by 

Alice Wilson 




Boston: Richard G. Badger 
The Gorham Press 

1906 



Copyright 1906 by Alice Wilson 
All Rig Jits Reserved 



LIBHArtY of CONGRESS 
Two Conies Received 

JUN 13 »906 

CMpyriirht Entry 

'KX<^ No. 







The Gorharn Press, Bosto7i, U. S. A. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



Actaon^s Defense 7 

To a Pine Tree at Night 11 

Voice and Star 13 

To Iphigenia 14 

St. Agnes' Dreams 17 

Voices 19 

Choice 21 

To the Queen Dying 23 

Thoughts on Watching a Snow-Slorm 24 

To a Scarlet Tanager 26 

Rhapsody 27 

Vision 30 

To N. W. and A.E.IV 31 

ToM.L.D 32 

To a Lovely Woman 33 

Warthurg Castle * 34 

Wartburg Castle ** 35 

Warthurg Castle *** 36 

To Egypt 37 

Villa Muti . -. 38 

Remembrance 39 



PAGE 



May Song 39 

Rhythm 40 

Peace 41 

Dawn and Daphne 42 

Sovereign Spring 43 

New Year's Day 44 

Camoen's Cry 45 

Moon Maid 46 

The Minstrel 48 

Grief in May 49 

Winter Marches 50 

Love Sonnets and Lyrics 

1 52 

// 53 

in 54 

IV 55 

V 56 

VI 57 

VII 58 

VIIl 59 

IX 60 

X 61 



PAGE 

To the Dream-Beloved 62 

On a Portrait 64 

Evening Reverie 65 

Sea-Bird 66 

Song 67 

Hopes 68 

Song 69 

Expectancy 70 

// thou didst come 71 

Comparison 72 

Little New Moon 73 

Jealousy 74 

Plaint 75 

Blossoms 76 

Winter Glow 77 

The Norse Spirit 78 

To a Statue: Madonna and Child 87 

Art 90 



ACTv^ON'S DEFENSE ' 

" Nay, thou wilt hear me, dazzling Artemis? 

" Stay but a while, my goddess! stay and hear! 

" Surely thou know'st no wilful passion drove 

" Me In desire to this sight of thee? 

" Not more than some unthinking sheep that sees 

" The rim of pasture greener o'er the ridge 

" And goes impelled by instinct to the best, 

" Came I upon thee In thy mystery. 

"Thou know'st my happy life; how with the 

youths 
*' I chased and sported, sang, and wore the wreaths 
"The maidens wove, with careless victory? 
" Count them, these years ! Were they not fault- 
lessly 
" Thine own, oh Maiden Huntress? fit to adorn 
" The marble of thy temple with a frieze 
" Of carven scenes whereon thy tameless gaze 
" Might rest In exultation? 

" Thus I lived, 
" 'Til once — whether a world of seasons past — 
" One autumn, — nay, or whether one brief morn, 
" I know not ! — suddenly my horn fell dumb. 
" I answered not my friends, nor stirred — and all 
" The chase died out in echo. Still I stood, 



" Hushed by a dream and blind. And as a vase 

" Of alabaster shows the glowing flame 

" So burned the dream within me. Ah! no more 

" l^he same, but now as one apart 

" Who feels a farther wonder than he sees, 

" I wandered, and my feet came carelessly 

" Unto the door of Spring. 

"Yea, ever fair 
" This birth beneath the sod, that wakens death 
" To life, and bids the burled roots to break 
" Into a coronal of budding things ; — 
" That bids the waters woo the empyrean blue 
" To mate with them, and He In lakes and streams 
" Like sleeping Godhood veiled In loveliness; — 
" That decks the morning hills with dew-fed 

beauty 
" And sends a thousand sparkling points of light 
" To jewel all the morning! 

" So adown 
" Unending vistas trembling Into green 
" Where scarcely yet the tender thought of nest 
" Had entered, or the stillness broken yet 
" With earliest song, and over virgin fields 
" That lay yet wrapped In lovely harvest dreams, 
" Under the young trees' arches, past the glades, 
" I came. And oft when lying by a pool 

8 



" Of wood-deep stillness, I have heard afar 
" Beyond the young wood-river's echoing course 
" The rhythmed movement of some hidden sea 
" That called me dimly; and my bosom's dream 
" Like some strange master bid me follow. Or, 
" When rousing flights of eager-winged birds 
" Out of their quiet, over miles of sky, 
" Ever my burning sight would yearn to them 
" With this too great desire. And oft I plunged 
" Into a shadowed pool to quench at once 
" My body's heat and this fierce flame within, — 
" In vain ! Like to the stag I oft have seen 
" Trample the fairness of an hostile copse 
" To reach a farther shelter, while each move 
" Doubled its danger; so through all the spring 
" I came. 

" At last one morn I woke and found 
'' The earth all summer, beauteous, wide and full. 
" Within me woke twin-gladness to my world! 
" I leapt, and gave the brimming call of old 
" Delight, and felt the dream, the spell 
" That held me, surge toward its goal. 
" Hunter again ! Again the glorious chase 
" Re-echoed through the silence ! I turned aside 
" Wondering to hear my heart-beats; — Lo ! 
" Full-crowned with glory of divinity 



"Thou stoodst Incarnate! Oh All Beautiful! 
" Who led me to the brink of thee? Who dared 
" Reveal the wonder of my dream's desire? 
" I burn! my sight Is flame! and all my being 
" Suffuses In effulgence! Ah, forbear, 
"Thou holy human! Thine unlmpassloned gaze 
" Devours me ! That once moon-marble light 
" That led me softly through the scented dark 
" Now grasps me In a blaze of awful scorn ! 
" Farewell, my silvery hopes, that fall as stars 
" Around me In this sudden glare of day! 
" My senses fall ! 

" Ho! sound the hunter's horn! 
" Let the dark night be wakened by the chase ! 
"What though the pale, far goddess fail? Per- 
chance 
" Beyond the dark, the forest passed, she waits 
" Within the delicate dawn, above a slope 
" Of grassy mildness bathed in blushful light 
" To crown us with her service virginal. 
" Come, my companions! — 

" Hark! Whence comes this fear? 
" Oh anguish! Hunted, even I, once lord 
" Of all the chase? Dian, Goddess! hear!" 



I- / ^ / 



10 



TO A PINE-TREE AT NIGHT 

Oh thou dreaming pine-tree, how my spirit loves 

thee! 
Calls thee its companion across the silent night! 
Thou in dreams art folded beyond the Summer's 

presence, 
Deaf to all her music, dumb to her delight ! 

Are thy dreams as tender, as exquisite as mine are, 
Infinitely subtler than the lightest breeze? 
Ship's wing, earth's scent, pulse of languid sea- 
wave 
My dreams are made of, but fairer far than these. 

Dear to me the sailing ships, filled with graceful 

breezes — 
Songs of the sea, flung out to greet the shore; — 
Sweet are the odors of the earth and ocean, 
Sweeter for nestling under deep sea roar. 

When the morning calls me out of tender slumber, 
Calls me to run to the young dawn's verge, 
Sometimes I hasten with pulses beating gladly 
Ready all my being in the morning's joy to merge. 

II 



Sometimes I seek a sister in desire 

By the drawn sea-tide, far and lone, and low : 

Now something draws me onward, to reach a 

higher level. 
Now it draws me backward, to and fro. 

Gifts are lying for me, on the motionless horizon. 
Songs I cannot hear arise from all the buds of 

earth ; 
Darkly, and sweetly, and full of stirring mystery 
Some rapture, cradled in my heart, is trembling 

into birth. 

What is this strange rapture, that wakens through 

my dreaming 
Reaching out for something the meadows cannot 

give? 
Is it this, oh silent pine-tree, that draws thee from 

the summer 
This delight In whose embrace alone thou car'st to 

live? 

Yet I will not ask thee for thy secret's dear di- 

vulgence ! 
All Its sweetness would be spent, Its mystery would 

die. 
Only, tell me softly, if amid thy dreaming, 
Thou dost ever wish for some more dear reality ? 

12 



VOICE AND STAR 

Star shining down from the heaven, 
Passionless, pure, and far; — 

Full of the fervor of living, 
Voice ringing out to the star. 

Voice ringing out to the star 
In an ecstasy sweet and divine; 

Breaking out over the silent 
Horizon of time. 

Star, in the calmness of vision, 
Dumb, comprehending the whole. 

Gathers the wordless wonder 
Into its soul. 

Each to the other out-reaching 

Over the aeons of air. 
Striving to stamp their image 

Somehow, somewhere. 

Somehow, somewhere to be gathered, 

Never ceasing to be. 
Till they dwell in the perfect plenum 

Of eternal infinity. 

13 



TO IPHIGENIA 

Ah Iphlgenia ! to be waiting there, 
Expectant, chosen, doomed, a tragic bride 
Of fate, with sad bound sacrificial hair 
And blighted loveliness, and tearful pride ! 

Was it not sweet, to feel thy young death meant 
The triumph of a nation's answered want? 
Did not thy soul bud forth in wonderment 
And full of ecstasy, arise and chant? 

I could so share the trembling of thy form 
That shrank from parting with its gift of life! 
To thy soul's terror, too, I could conform 
And loathe the deadly vision of the knife. 

But, could'st thou plead and weep against thy lot? 
Against the high demand of sacrifice? 
Could'st strive to 'scape, with futile plan and plot 
Paying the one sublime atonement price? 

Would'st thou not render life's young sweetness up 
With happy cadence into deathless skies? 
Not drink, unfaltering, the silent cup 
Filled with the draught of future victories? 

14 



Most exquisite, In temple column-reared, 
Upon a shore sea-bordered, still and blue. 
Where without wonder, happy Gods appeared 
Their deathless dreams of beauty to pursue. 

To die; while countless warriors waited still 
For thy sweet breath to fail, thy form so fair 
To lie in marble death, beyond the thrill 
That lifted mighty hearts to worship there. 

I would my life might gather its spent force 
And blossom into so divine a death, 
Could I but purchase such an evil course 
Of ills with price of my one body's breath ! 

But now there Is no temple by the sea ; 
No altar carved in marble delicate; 
No oracle enwrapped in mystery; 
No virgin called, a victim unto fate ! 

Instead, an open world beneath the day 
Where men are herded In a stricken mass 
To watch in grief, along the mourning way 
The solemn countenance of sorrow pass. 



15 



I see men stand beside the silent dead 
No touch can lift to life, no voice awake, 
I feel their hearts' deep weight of tears unshed, 
I hear the grief no human words e'er spake. 

And I, my Iphlgenia, unlike thee 
Whom the stern voice of oracle bade come, 
I can but weep, uncomforted, to see 
Our holy Altars lying chaste and dumb. 

Oh daughter of a deathless century, 
Rejoice in thine old-world belief 
That let thee dying look abroad and see 
Thy people saved from such a bitter grief ! 

While we must seek with more awakened minds, 
W^ith more of spirits' lonely prophecy 
A consolation not to be defined, 
Which gives us prescience of eternity. 

Written in memory of William McKinley. 



i6 



ST. AGNES' DREAMS 

There is no moon aloft, and yet its light 
Like guilty creature from a silent wold 
Creeps out upon the open moor of night 
And aureoles the darkness with its gold. 

The happy maidens gather in a throng 
With offering and charm and lurid spell 
To break the bonds of magic and with awe 
The names of future- fate and lovers tell. 

And now a laugh ascends, a happy jest, 
Half broken by sweet terror and the cry 
Of one who stumbles nearer on the truth. 
And well believes her own mind's fantasy. 

The hour chimes, and sudden silence reigns. 
Now all have sped to seek the charmed sleep 
When dreams are blest with life and visions dear 
Awake and live and move and softly speak. 

All still! Now noiselessly the magic hour 
Steals phantom-like across my solitude, 
And lo ! from stress of love, I kneel and pray 
To lowly Agnes, saint of maidenhood. 

17 



She sends no charmed sleep encrowned with 

dreams, 
But only touches my own waking thought 
To happy hope, and draws to clearer sight 
The one dear image which my heart hath wrought. 

There is no moon, no spell, no augury, 
The spirits slumber still in silent rest. 
All still ! my quiet heart with closed eyes 
Lies as a lily on the river's breast. 



i8 



VOICES 

Tonight my spirit wakes and will not rest. 
Nor may the silence soothe its care away, 
For o'er the mountain's long, unlighted crest 
I seem to see the shadow of the day. 

I seem to hear the brown wood-rivers' singing 
Of other scenes, unslumberlng and free; 
To see the eager birds their long flight winging 
Along the margin of a level sea ; 

To hear, as oft mldf^vlnter silences, 

The whisper of an uncreated spring; 

To feel the presence of dim potencies 

Elude my touch like some half-startled thing. 

I know not if these are some once-known lands 
Revisiting my waking memory, 
Toward which I reach my spirit's yearning hands 
With eager w^Ish for proving constancy. 

Or still the same dim dream of the Ideal, 
The CIrce-call of worlds that never were, 
Which ever, through the universe of the real, 
Like sudden star-worlds nebulously stir. 

19 



Nor stilled, nor ever found, these mystic feelings 
Appear like phantom spirits In the mind, 
Omniscient In their Infinite reveallngs 
Although, for all their wide-eyed vision, blind. 

Akin to lonely tides that rise and fall 

As moved by that high power unproved, un- 

guessed. 
Around life's shores these voices move and call 
And urge our thoughts upon eternal quest. 



20 



CHOICE 

The lithesome willow wooes the earth 
With delicate caresses; 
While up for the mere touch of sky 
The trembling poplar presses. 

Which chooscst thou, oh rapturous heart 

Ready-winged with song — 
I'he sweetness near of budding earth, 
Or sky-flights dim and long? 

Or art thou gifted as a bird 

With equal happy share 
Of friendship for the nesting earth 
And passion for the air? 

Be quick, my heart, my happy bird, 
For life is full and sweet, 
And I would follow on thy way — 
Thy choice I wait to greet. 

Then spake my heart: "I dare not choose 

Or either earth or sky 
Lest by my choice I lose indeed 

Some share of ecstasy.'* 



21 



"Like wlllow-bough I'd woo the earth 
With touch of tender love, 

Like trembling poplar yearn I for 
"rhe haunting height above." 



to 



"Yet if I start on singing flight 
To make each rapture mine, 

For love's possession of a part 
I must the whole resign." 

" 'Tis now, upon the brimming verge 

I drink of all delight. 
My wing is glad with prophecy 

Of all the joy of flight." 



22 



TO THE QUEEN, DYING 

Now hath the gray and starry moor 
All wind-dismantled grown — 

A whisper low, of wondering woe, 
A lily, overblown. 

Queen and Woman! proud of life! 

So Mother-meek with love! 
I saw thee late in robes of state 

In majesty to move. 

And all my life I heard the song 
Thy full heart chanted loud, 

I knew thee blest in every breast, 
So gracious and so proud. 

In silent awe we watch and wait 
With deep implanted faith, 

Thy closing hour, thine ending power. 
The Angelus of Death. 

The pure star waneth in the light, 

Our eyes no longer see; 
We greet forlorn the new, strange morn 

Unheralded by thee ! 



23 



THOUGHTS ON WATCHING 
A SNOW-STORM 

Through a vast, aerial sea 

It sinketh slow, and awfully; — 

Mute with unseen mystery. 

Sinks and masses, deep and still, 

A slumb'rous wayfarer, until 

It yields unto the north wind's will. 

Then it sweeps like phantom sand 
Blighting by its leprous hand 
All the blooming of the land. 

Pity, oh ye powers then 

For the erstwhile master men 

Locked like cattle in their pen ! 

No Theseus have they in this 
Labyrinthian wilderness, 
Horror-wrought and merciless. 

All their actions stricken are; 

E'en their visions hold no star 

Nor their stammering speech a prayer. 

24 



But their souls In wonderment 

Beat against the blind Intent 

That steals their dower, the firmament. 

And they strain their sightless eyes 
To pierce the ever-darkening skies 
With cold Philosophy's surmise. 

Until the pitying touch of night 
Bids them cease such falcon flight 
And softly hoods their troubled sight. 



25 



TO A SCARLET TAN ACER. 

At noon, when quiet reigns among 

The bird-deserted trees, 
When eyes, earth-weary, upward turn 

A glimpse of sky to seize, 

I see thee light with wlldwood grace 

Upon a waving tree, 
I watch thee flash from sun to shade 

In fearless liberty. 

In proud delight the sun's rich blaze 
Gives challenge to thy sheen 

As, breasting the soft winds of May 
Thou swing'st in rapture keen. 

No tie of nest and mate withholds 

Thy new created Aving ; 
Life beckons thee on virgin flight. 

Thou blithe, unfettered thing! 

Such dower of beauty needs no song 

To meet perfection's test; 
Thy scarlet flashes through the soul, 

Thy muteness stills the breast. 

26 



RHAPSODY TO ETHEL 

Gentians blue, 

Am I thinking thus of you 
As I kneel in meadows fair 

Blown by golden autumn air, 
Culling you with quickened breath 

E'er you fade my touch beneath, 
Gentians radiant and rare? 

Beauty surely were enough 

For a heart that sought 
Haven for its thought! 

What else led me o'er the rough 
Close-reaped meadows, save 

Your sudden distant color-wave 
That ran the oozy pasture through 

Like a maiden's dream come true? 

As I crouch in grasses wet. 

Where the newly shining sun 
Works in fine equality 

With the rains that buried yet 
In the gloom of under-earth 

Knead and mold you to your birth. 
Gentians blue, you hand me on 

In a ringing tone, 

27 



To the memory of one 

Who hath called from morning zone 
Unto me, 

All her mating ecstasy ! 

Waking heart to wakened flower 

Out from west to east, 
Each a dawning for a dower 

With the light to be increased. 
Here for dawn-guest, as I ween, 

Musing all unseen, 
Lies my hidden heart between. 

Fair your petals' fringed outline 

Cut in delicate design. 
Folded outward royally ! 

I have never seen you so 
Wholly open, glad to throw 

All your store's intensity 
In the surge of light divine. 

So my maid hath ever been 

Sought but rarely seen, 
Like the shade your own fringe throws 

O'er your petals' beauteous blue. 
Lie the shadows for repose 

O'er her nature true. 

28 



They who seek you in the mist 

Under sullen skies 
Find you folded up 

In your spiral cup, 
Still a wonder to the eyes, 

But your hearts' blue all unkissed. 

They the many who have known 

All my maiden's folded charms, 
Courted her for grace. 

Or her loveliness of face, 
Seekers in the mist, they pass 

Half her worth too soon. 
Would they only wait this time 

When the glory of the day — 
Love-day for my lass — 

Wooes her spirit wide and calms 
All her wilfulness away. 

In the dawning of her prime 
They would win their boon. 

Gentians blue. 

Thinking thus of her and you, 
I hear the earth-pulse beat, 

I feel the divine fire 



29 



Beating, glowing to unite 

In the earth and air and ocean, 
Between hearts and eyes alight 

With the joy of high emotion 
Wrought to whiteness of desire. 

Set a'wing, 
Thus my heart goes caroling 

In the meadow at your feet, 
Gentians blue and rare and sweet. 



VISION 

Time is not long to me : 

Its gifts of days are like strong rivers flowing, 
Glad, because of unpent, outward going 
Unto a dreamed of sea. 

To mc Time is not long: 
The still nights lead in silvern rhapsody 
To morning hills where one awaiteth me 
With golden-fluted song. 



30 



To N. W. AND A. E. W. 

I He and dream of love. And thus I see 

But dimly through my fancy's hidden eyes 

llie distant spire of my Ideal rise 

Far beyond life, unsure and falteringly. 

And as a mother-bird distressfully 

Beholds her nestling's weakness as it flies, 

I see mine yearn in vain toward the skieii — 

I hear its bell-tones ring a wail to me. 

My vision fades. Then through the silence gray 

1 hear the echo of Life's resonant speech: 

"Turn thee and see beside thee Life's strong way, 

Nor build thy Love beyond Love's very reach." 

I turn and see, across the sound of day 

Two lives that lean in silence each to each. 



31 



To M. L. D. 

Dear Garden Lady with discouraged air 

Let not your spirit suffer such defeat ! 

If other gardens seem to be as sweet, 

None can to yours in character compare. 

Not only flowers make a garden fair, 

Nor well-raked paths, nor borders trim and neat ; 

Though all be strictly ordered and complete. 

Such can exist, yet no delight be there. 

A Garden is a cloistered spot, enclosed 

From the rough-visaged world, and walled about 

With sweetness of fair thoughts and faithful toil 

And touch of love upspringing from the soil. 

Thus, when thy flower-nurslings blossom out, 

What gifts of spirit's sweetness lie disclosed! 



32 



To A Lovely Woman 

T know a soul that mocks at every thrill 

Nor to itself a lofty birth will own ; 

But with defiant knowledge overgrown 

Parries its questioning with curious skill. 

I know a soul that trembles and is still: 

A soul that shrinks and broods and sits alone 

Staring at wrongs, and counts them, one by one, 

As blighted children of a sinful will. 

The while it dwells in such an habitation 

As Goddess Beauty's self might deign to grace 

Nor find unworthy of immortal station. 

Alas ! that from this heaven-designed face 

looks forth the soul in such ill-spent vexation 

'T would seem or soul or form were out of place. 



33 



WARTBURG CASTLE 



Uplifted high above the humble earth 

By the attending trees, within their hold 

That stand like caryatides of old, 

Thy strength of stone goes outward. Into birth; — 

Here scanneth thou the ages as they go 

As if they were mere shadows of bird flight 

Beneath thy turrets ! — they, whose chief delight 

Is, vassal-like, to lay their treasures low 

Before thee ! Oh Impenetrable stone, 

Imbedded with the gems of rarest lore 

That, like remembered suns, has steeped thy zone 

In light of buried days ! What unseen shore 

Absorbs thy vision? What unrisen sun 

Seest thou in contemplation evermore? 



34 



I lean far out across the casement sill 

Within the hall where Minnisingers strove 

And dream myself a thousand leagues abov^e 

Yon earthly paradise of vale and hill. 

I hear the lutes 'neath Minnisingers skill 

In faint old echoes sing of gentle love ; 

I see Elizabeth, the Rose-Saint, move 

Within her hallowed habitation still. 

I see that other high Edizabeth 

Who crowned Tannhauser with her constancy 

And, farther, o'er the courtyard's quiet gloom 

I see the glimmer of an humble room 

Where, stolen from an angry world away. 

Luther, imprisoned, nursed the new-born faith. 



35 



*** 



Not altogether do I dream of these 

Within their memorable walls of stone; 

But, when I stand at casements quite alone, 

And look upon the deepening vales of trees. 

My dreaming sight its own new vision sees 

And blossoms as a flower in the sun, 

Drinking the beauty that it looks upon 

In full abandonment of joy and ease. 

The legends sleep: the Castle wakes and lives; 

The past lies far: the present hovers near! 

The Wartburg stands ablaze on mountain crest- 

Oh hidden histories, seek your tranquil rest 

And leave me in my full possession here 

To take, in right of life, the gift it gives! 



36 



TO EGYPT 

What though we break with heedless light of day 

On thy sepulchral rest, so still, so vast, 

And from the ruined treasury of thy past 

Like thieves we bear thy buried hoard away. 

Mourn not oh Egypt! Still thy vault is deep 

With wealth that lies beyond our ruthless reach : 

Thy wisdom, locked before our questioning speech, 

Thy beauty, wrapped in its Imperial sleep. 

These keep as thine Imperishable store, 

Oh Hathor Egypt, till the world is done ; 

Nor grudge those things whose broken loveliness 

Recalls us from the living throng and press 

To seek, upon thy venerable shore. 

Their priceless rescue from oblivion. 



37 



VILLA MUTI 

I wandered o'er Frascati's lovely height 

Intent on inward thoughts and reveries, 
Beholding beauty with unseeing eyes ; 

When lo! there rose before my vagrant sight 
A place embrasured in the mystic light 

Of olden days and nursed in memories 
That hung it with an aureole of sighs; 

From whence I heard the stir of dead delight 
Rise in a ghostly rhythm and awake 

To words of soul-engendered solacement: 
" There once were two who lived their early dream 

Among our flowery ruins, and by our stream, 
LIntil life called and with their love they went. 

We give thee garnered sweetness for their sake." 



38 



REMEMBRANCE 

The seasons pass before mine eyes : — 
Budding Spring and new life caroling; 
Summer's fullness: — "Take or leave" It cries; 

Fire of Autumn's passionate besieging, 
Then Winter's death. — All pass before mine eyes 

Untouched. My heart Is answering 
Thy call from some dim paradise. 



MAY SONG 

Poplar crowned with blackbird, 
Valley veiled In mist. 
Fields of showery blossoms, 
Air of amethyst; 



Moon of moistened amber, 
Waters hushed In glades. 
Wistful love a'waking 
In the hearts of maids. 



39 



RHYTHM 

The slim moon points her will 
And the swinging tides obey. 
Hung on the tip of her horn 
Forward and back they sway; 

With ebb that swingeth, 
And liow that ringeth 
To and fro everlastingly. 

Under the horn of the moon 
Swing, with a rhythmic tide, 
Moods in the breast of man; 

With passionate pride 

Flowing in ecstasy 

Ebbing in misery, 
Infinitely unsatisfied. 



40 



PEACE 

'Tis milking time: the peaceful cows, knee deep 
Within the fragrant clover and the grass, 
Stand mutely waiting for the time to pass 
Beyond the bars that lead to placid sleep. 

'Tis falling eve : the fluttering birds are still, 
Lulled by the finished curfew of the thrush. 
'Tis ended day, and faint across the hush 
From fallow fields the hopes of reapers thrill. 

'Tis harbour time: the tired ships are home. 
The sails that leapt to breeze on morning's quest 
With finished purpose lie in evening's breast 
To dream of reefs that ring with baflled foam. 

'Tis holy eve : up to God's waiting hand 
The fruits of human toil and thought ascend. 
How still ! How near us Godhead seems to bend 

In this reposeful rapture of the land ! 



41 



DAWN AND DAPHNE 

Daphne, maiden of the youthful morning, 

Racing winds with motion fleet, 
Daphne, spirit of the fragile dawning 
Hear thy comrades call to thee In warning ! 

Beware the foe ! 

Phoebus' bov/ 
Follows fast thy glancing feet. 



Softly shadows of the reeds and rushes 

Swing In newly wakened bliss. 
Shyly youthful field and meadow blushes, 
Nature's paean ends the long night hushes. 

Dawn and Daphne 

Daphne and the Morn ! 
In the East as sisters meet and kiss. 

Daphne, maiden, hush thy laughter's ringing, 

Lover hither hast thou led. 
Soul of morning, still thine untamed singing! 
Hide thee! Phoebus' burning shaft is winging! 

He catcheth thee ! — 

Oh! maiden-tree 
Think not that thou art Daphne — she is fled ! 

42 



SOVEREIGN SPRING 

Oh crocus-cup ! 
What fairy hand 
Doth lift thee up 

So daintily 

And airily? 
"I come in answer to the Spring's command." 

Oh shyest thought ! 
Who bade thee start, 
Uncalled, unsought. 

On trembling wing? 

"Love in spring 
Hath called me from the quiet of the heart!" 



43 



NEW YEAR'S DAY 

Swings In the rhythm of time, 

To and fro, 
The mighty pendulum 

Of joy and woe. 
Hung from the throne of the Holy One 
It measures life from zone to zone. 

Age answers age, as it swings 

To and fro. 
Weighted with messages 

Of joy and woe; 
Helpless and dumb, 'neath the pendulum. 
Driven as slaves by its go and come. 

Glorious rhythm and swing! 

Thy to and fro 

Touch at two points of eternity. 

This joy and woe 
Is soul's breath, outstripping death — 
The song swings wide, and the song is faith. 



44 



CAMOEN'S CRY 

" Sweetest eyes were ever seen," 

Hide thy fire while I press 
First awakened shy caress 

That betrays me truthfully: 
For the years that ne'er have been 

When I lived unknowing thee, 
For the future years apart, 

Lost delight and weary heart, 
Take this store for memory. 

But oh eyes, close-shut beneath 

Passionate fire of my breath, 
Slowly toward thee I lean: 

For the hours dear and dread 
I have looked thee deep within — 

Flaming hours quickly sped — 
Love, I live, I yield, possess, 

Eternity in this caress! 
Thus I leave thee; all Is said, 

" Sweetest eyes were ever seen." 



45 



MOON MAID 

The moon Is Diana tonight 
Forth on her maiden chase; 

Controlling her mad delight 
With Infinite grace. 

Leashed are the wondering winds 
To her tameless girdle of gold; 

Limitless waters she binds 
With the charm of her hold. 

Valleys and plains awake 

And lie In a marvellous maze; 

Dreams are dead, for the sake 
Of her magical gaze. 

Hearkens the huntress moon; 

Pauses amid her gladness — 
Endymion stirring soon 

Will waken to sadness! 

She slips from her shining sheath 

Into a sea of bliss, 
Wooes with her moon-born breath 

Earth-lover's kiss. 



46 



Scattered the starry chase, 
The tale of Its glory over: 

Run is the maiden race — 
Diane to her lover. 



47 



THE MINSTREL 

I came along the highway 

Over hill and dale 
Until at summer evening 

I reached a pleasant vale: 

A little hermit valley 

All wooded, wild, and still 
Save for the wind in the high pines 

And the lonely rill. 

I found a little lodging 

For wandering singers meet, 

The world of stars above me. 
The dark earth at my feet. 

I took my harp for singing 

As a minstrel may; 
But all my dreams and cadences 

Fell silently away. 

For in the vale at evening 

I listened and I heard 
The singing revelation 

Of a woodland bird. 



48 



GRIEF IN MAY 

After the rain the blue bird's song 
And the musical water rippling along — 
Oh ! well-a-day ! 
Strong Is the promise of blossoming birth 
When after April's rain the earth 
Gathers herself Into May. 

May! May! and Winter Is sped! 
The children's brows are garlanded! 

Oh ! well-a-day ! 
Heavy hearts must come not here, 
Dirges are muffled, madrigals clear 
Herald the morn of May. 

None will sing of thee. Sorrow mine ! 
Never a flower or leaf will pine ! 

Oh! well-a-day! 
From the merry world I stand apart, 
For my heart hath gone with another heart 
Over the hills of May. 



49 



WINTER MARCHES 

Wild marches, winter marches, where my heart 
is hiding 
The long reverberation of the hunter's tread 
beneath. 
Like a wild bird waiting for the call of mating 
Lies and follows close, for fear of wing-swift 
death; 

Whither do ye lead him by your lone-voiced beauty, 
Lead my own lone hunter of the hungered heart. 

Lure him ever onward o'er your mutable horizons 
Circean southern marches by your melancholy 
art? 

Stand I an outcast, all worship fallen from me — 
I, your vestal, tend no more your huge calm 
flame; 
For the light of gray-deep eyes doth draw me from 
your service 
And my hidden heart must ever haunt the way 
he came. 

Moon-marches, mute-marches, filled with mournful 
beauty 
Where the wild things sweep in flight across your 
open breast, 

50 



Where the longing uplands wander outward to the 
sunset, 
Where the brooding lowlands lie In unbound 
rest ; 

Far my hunter comes to woo your great untempled 
spirit, 
Seeks your borders whence the world like sun 
drops down. 
World-reft stands he ready for your dower: 
Call him and crown him and render him his own ! 

Wild marches, southern marches, woefully your 
dreams-winds 
Waft me wonder of desire, trellis me with bliss; 
Oh to be there, beauteous marches, where my heart 
is hiding 
When you greet my morning hunter with auroral 
kiss! 



51 



LOVE SONNETS AND LYRICS 



Upon the world I shut my tired sight 

And close in such sweet company of dreams 

I am inclined to think the world but seems 

And truth the dear deceptions of the night. 

Within his lonely cell the anchorite 

Stops not to ponder o'er the sun's real beams, 

The warrior heeds not the dying screams, 

But goes upheld by purpose through the fight. 

Whate'er each sees with power of inner thought 

Such lives for him, as truest truth of all, 

While facts but follow in its living train. 

Then why should I deny what dreams have taught 

Or put from me mine unseen coronal. 

My shut-in world, that dowers me with gain ? 



II 

Oh little dost thou know, mine absent friend, 
How warm a hearth-fire burns within my breast 
For thee to sit by, dream, and take thy rest 
Before thou journey to thy mission's end! 
Each hour the embers I renew and mend 
And consecrate anew to thy behest, 
Sure of thy coming, yet half fearful lest 
No thought o^* me, as torch, thy way attend. 
Oft times I wonder how thou farest there. 
Living thy life within the world of men 
Where I am absent ; and I cannot choose 
But falter; 'til my heart Its faith renews. 
Its happy vision, of the hour when 
I open wide the door and see thee there ! 



53 



Ill 

How dear thou art, my love ! how more possessed 
Of human sweetness, charm, and all delight, 
Than aught that challenges my constant sight 
Or lays strong siege to refuge in my breast ! 
Constrained with mutest reverence I stand 
Before my garnered memories of thee : 
Thy starry words, thy voice's melody, 
Eternal eyes, and tender-touching hand. 
While thus each single gift I contemplate 
Twofold the value grows: dower of the past 
In which reality is consummate; 
Then, that which sends the heart-pulse trembling 

fast. 
Dower of the future — hidden dreams, that wait 
Till they shall waken 'neath thy call at last. 



54 



IV 

When, one by one, I see the names of friends 

Like stars appear above me, proud and far, 

While I beneath them, small and insular, 

Lie dazzled by the light their -radiance sends; 

I can rejoice no envious thought offends, 

No earlier vain and bitter longings mar 

My soul's serenity. I now unbar 

With scorn of all my dreamed-of aims and ends 

The barriers that held me prisoner. 

And let a flood of feeling overpour; 

Rather a lavish giving to prefer 

Than keeping as I kept a miser store 

To feed self-love. Oh mine awakener! 

In loving others I but love thee more ! 



5S 



V 

When as a child I sought in simple sleep 

The remedy for all my childish woes 

Nor ever from its hallowed breast arose 

Without new comfort, adequate and deep; 

So when in maidenhood I learned to weep 

And wonder at the spirit's greater throes, 

Then in the world of books I sought repose 

And thought through them my happiness to keep. 

Mere stages were they in development 

Which led me to the brink of deeper things 

Where I awoke upon the world of love. 

Since then nor books nor sleep my griefs remove; 

But only thought of thee doth lend me wings 

To reach more thought of thee, and rest content. 



56 



VI 

By all the ways of life I come to thee: 

Along the highroad of my common day 

In the full glare of trials that betray 

The frailties of my nature; I come to thee 

Along the woodpaths of my fantasy 

Where once my virgin spirit loved to stray 

In lone delight; rjnd when I climb to lay 

My burst of rapture near eternity; 

r come through vales where vespers have been 

ringing, 
What time my heart is touched with solemn grace; 
And last, with spirit 'neath its sorrow stinging, 
I reach thee in its secret mourning place. 
Thou my horizon art, my life enrlnging 
And o'er it like a star is set thy face. 



57 



VII 

Now I have learned the blanching bitterness 

Of roots that turn from cherished dreams of light 

To seek, among earth's treasures recondite 

The worth of courage and of truthfulness. 

Now have I learned the stem's long quietness 

That moulds Its longing for a rapturous flight 

To patient progress through the day and night, 

Hoarding the hope it trembles to confess. 

And now have learned the bud's enrlpening share 

To hold the secret It would fain disclose 

And of its grief, of gifts unrealized, 

Make future sweetness. Ah, how justly prized 

Will be each task, when once the perfect rose 

Of spoken love enfolds upon the air ! 



58 



VIII 

What shall I answer thee, how give thee, dear, 
Most wisely of the largesse of my store 
Of true affection? Shall I give thee more 
Than what thou deemest thine, as to a peer 
We seek to w^oo and dazzle? Or, through fear 
To let thee know thy fullest wealth before 
Thou speak'st the need, shall I but pass thy door 
With mite of offering? My heart sees clear 
"The second gift is best. So let me stay 
Within thy hidden tower, with eager sight 
To watch thy life's horizon, marking thence 
The assailing dangers and thy soul's defense. 
Oh, ready-armed with balms or with delight 
To meet thee, crowned or conquered, on thy way ! 



59 



IX 

Oh thou ! who to my spirit holdest up 
A chalice, brimming with the sacred wine 
Of love, see how my lips may not decline 
To drain the contents of the invisible cup ; 
But lean to quaff thine offering, be the sup 
Of dole or of delight! Thy gaze greets mine, 
And as across the cup my hands touch thine, 
A power Ineffable doth seem to stoop 
And breathe on us a miracle, a change 
Which quickeneth our senses into flame. 
And makes us part of some divinely strange 
Intent. Oh Love ! I question not the aim ! 
Lift me to look upon the boundless range 
Of loving, while I whisper close thy name ! 



60 



X 

At first, a quiet copse inhabited 

Half unbeknown within its sylvan green 

By some shy living thing, my life had been. 

Not guessing thee. Then, later, 'twas instead 

As if thou didst a hidden lustre shed: 

As when the moon at daytime, faintly seen, 

Herself scarce knowing what her coming mean, 

Hangs in a veiled wonder overhead. 

Now as a gray-w^alled garden lying near, 

Which only some dim mist of tears conceals, 

I know thee, feel thee, 'til almost I see 

Through these few words thyself in verity. 

True then, my heart from such deceit appeals 

And copse, and moon, and garden, disappear. 



6i 



TO THE DREAM-BELOVED 

Dear one, thou who lookest not on mine anguish, 
Knowest not how eagerly under mine eyelids 
Love-flames sparkle and heat to exquisite rapture, 
Hear me Invoke thee ! 

Ah ! how tenderly now may I enfold thee ! 
Shower thee with all the delight of loving, 
Close thine eyes with invisible stress of kisses. 
Oh thou beloved ! 

Strong-browed hero ! under thine eyes deep fire 
Fell I prone as the winter snow before summer 
Song-mute, stark, while the rhythm of thy being 
Swept o'er me senseless! 

Lark like, soaring ere the sun hath risen. 
Pour I singing forth in unfettered freedom. 
Quench thou, love, the sound of my soaring voice 
in the 
Sun of thy presence ! 

Send I forth upon the deep sea of loving. 
White ships toward the goal of my desire; 
Heart-sick, watching their sails bend under the 
breezes. 
Farther and farther 
62 



Fluttering outward. Oh thou tender com- 
panion ! 
Would that I at thy strand with white wings 
folded 
Love weary, might be gathered to thy bosom, 
Stilled and completed! 



63 



ON A PORTRAIT 

I love thy portrait in the light, 
When as a beggared one I stand 

Drinking in a false delight 
At memory's strand. 
But ever deeper than at first 

Grows my love-thirst. 
Oh chalice of my love ! thou givest such sweet pain 

I turn — but ever eager, drink again ! 

I love thy portrait in the dark. 
When o'er night's lonely sea 
It is my spirit's bark 
In which I sail to thee. 

I sail within it through the night 
But at the coming of the light, 
Oh gentle bark ! thou castest me forlorn 
Upon the breakers of an alien morn! 



64 



EVENING REVERIE 

Recollections of my dear one rise 

Like wistful stars that steal upon the hour 

Half sure of welcome. As the day-worn skies 

Divest themselves of daylight's pomp and power 

And draw these prophets of deep quietness 

Unto their bosom in a mute content; 

So do I speed the fruits of restlessness, 

Take over me the robe of wonderment, 

And draw my recollections to my breast. 

All through and through suffused with happy rest. 



65 



SEA-BIRD 

Oh heart ! thou'rt like a sea-bird having come 
Too far in river-flight from the full sea 

Which is its home. 
It sweeps the air with proud majestic wing 
While its wild heart for waves is hungering, 
Its sight for sea-horizons, wide and free. 

Hadst thou, oh heart, some hunger unappeased 
Which those great acres of unfeeling thought 

To madness teased? 
Let thy wild flight bear northward, full and strong! 
There will thy silence answered be with song 
In whose delight thy woe will be forgot. 

For there, oh heart, thou passionate sea-bird, 
Lies all thy wing's desire, lies the one voice 

Thy heart hath heard. 
Fly to the far and ice-washed northern strand, 
Seek out thy love within that distant land 
Then, happy heart-bird, mate thee with thy choice. 



66 



SONG 

One dear face in my memory clear 
Lies as a star in a midnight mere; 
Trouble the waters, it gleameth still 
Ever alluring and magical. 

One dear face in my life is set 
As the crowning gem in a coronet; 
High o'er the level of peer and prince 
It gloweth in love's m.agnificence. 

One dear face in my heart lies deep 

Under the anguish of days that weep ; 

Weep as they one by one depart 

From their vestal watch in the hush of the heart. 



67 



HOPES 

All day a subtle feeling of unrest 

Hath lodged within my breast. 
All day a flock of little dreams hath striven 

An audience to be given. 

To such mad visitants what shall I say? 

.1 cannot tell them nay, 
They are so dear they may be partly true! 

Then it would never do 
To thrust them from me, they who are so dear 

Merely for fear. 

So since there is no better company 

I take them unto me. 
Even as the gods leaned sometimes from above 

To take in love. 



68 



SONG 

Fields and woods are Inundated 
With the earnest floods of spring; 
And my heart o'erflows with earnest 
Floods of sweet intentioning. 

When the waters have subsided 
Woods and fields will be at rest; 
And my heart shall find its quiet 
When it lies upon thy breast. 



69 



EXPECTANCY 

The delicate, dancing blossoms, 

Like an aerial sea, 
Are thrilling under the secret 

Of some new ecstasy. 

The gray-walled roads are quiet; 

The wistful, checkered shade 
Is languid with the perfume 

By lemon hedges made. 

Within the waiting thickets 
The silence grows to pain — 

It seems 'twill ne'er be broken 
Under the birds' sweet strain! 

Ah me ! this loveliness 

That lies but now so dumb. 

Would all break Into rapture 
If only thou didst come ! 



70 



IF THOU DID'ST COME 

If thou did'st come, what would this springtime be 

But realization of eternity? 

Would my sad heart have strength such joy to 

face? 
Nay love, dear love, then tarry thou a space ! 

What would all springtimes be, did'st thou not 

come? 
A birdless waste with all its rapture dumb! 
Then let my heart be glad, and fit for song. 
And love, dear love, oh tarry thou not long ! 



71 



COMPARISON 

Bird-flights, ever wending 
Farther yet and higher; 

Love-thoughts ever tending 
Toward their desire. 

Bird-flights that safely come 

To evening nest; 
Love-thoughts that sadly roam 

In love's unrest. 

Birds, follow your flight 

In the fetterless air; 
Thoughts, In thy free delight 

Have a care, 
Lest ye from your proud height 

Fall In despair! 



72 



LITTLE NEW MOON 

Little new moon of Hope 
High in the autumn sky, 

Stay, stay, nor yet 
In silvery silence set 

Under the western slope. 
New little moon on high ! 

Little new moon of Fear 
Shining so calm and bright, 

I weave me wonder-dreams 
Out of thy wizard beams. 

But ah! there falls a tear 

And troubles thy wayward light! 

Little new moon of Love, 

Brimming with bliss. 
Will ye so early go 

When the heart acheth so? 
Ah little moon remiss. 

Far in the sky above ! 



73 



JEALOUSY 

Oh Love ! I send my thoughts tonight 

Across the sea 
In such tempestuous, headlong flight 

To thee — 
Surely some few, with happier success 
Will reach the haven of thy tenderness ! 

I see thine eyes delight, I feel thee start 

To know them near; 
I see thee take them to thy heart ! — 

My dear, 
My own beloved ! I can scarcely bear 
That even they, my hostages, be there ! 



74 



PLAINT 

I held within my wistful hands 

Gifts for thee, 
But winter winds have wrested them 

Away from me. 

I sang the sweetest songs I know 

Into the air, 
But silence now has scattered them 

Everywhere. 

I nested visions of our joy 

Within my heart, 
But they too falter, since we are 

So far apart. 

Now I may only go within 

The temple dim 
And there, in tears, my little lamp 

Of faith I trim. 



75 



BLOSSOMS 

As frail and ghostly fruit-trees 

Bloom in early spring, 
My dreams of thee awaken 

In virgin wondering. 

In startled joy they tremble 

And bloom, and reach for bliss; 

They drink the heaven's wonder, 
The wing of passion kiss. 

I sadly watch these blossoms 

So delicate and fair — 
I know them doomed to perish 

Like wraiths upon the air. 



^6 



WINTER-GLOW 

Bare Is the light 

In the western sky — 
And the tall trees 

Are bare and high. 

Bare is the heaven 

Where one star gleams 
Bare Is the earth 

Of murmuring streams. 

Bare Is the nest 

Of Its mating bird — 
Bare Is my heart 

Of the voice It heard. 



77 



THE NORSE SPIRIT 

Hearken earth-dwellers ! 
Mine Is a strong song 
Star-flung, earth-gathered, 
Sweeping in rhythm 
Through the world's arteries. 
I am the Ice-born 
Necessity-nurtured ! 
Long ere the earth sap 
Sprang into action, 
But lay in the North land 
Glacier-buried, 
I was created. 

Here in the white world 
Silent and crystal 
I hoarded my man-brood. 
All uncompanioned 
Shone we as first stars 
Through desolation. 
(There was a dream 
Dwelling in South land, 
I smelt of Its sweetness, — 
The blossom was faded.) 



Down the dumb ages 

I led the migration 

Of men in their numbers, 

Dawn-reddened, mere forces 

Shaped out of chaos, 

Bearing their birth-rights 

From the mute Maker. 

Rung then the swords 
Of Northmen as conquerors 
Over the world ; 
Striking the death-blow, 
Singing the life-song, 
Strong in the struggle, 
The world their arena. 
Over sun-nations 
Breathed they an ice-breath; 
Ground the creatures 
Of gilded luxury. 
Under their iron, 
Bearing their baubles 
Like gods in mere laughter. 

New homes upsprung 
Under my guiding; 
Men became wiser-eyed, 

79 



Stronger, self-governed; 

While like a lynx-light 

Watched I among them. 

Oh the long thirst I bore ! 

This to assuage, 

They fretted the rivers — 

Chained the first flowing 

Of fierce mountain torrents. 

Slowly they sought out 

The laws of the forces ; 

Still I demanded. 

How with my hot touch 

I scorched them to action. 

How with unsleeping watch 

Pierced I their darkness, 

How I impelled them 

To rise through the earth-clay 

And stirred them to sense 

Of the dim Possible 

Whose hunted horizon 

Moves ever outward; — 

All this is scored 

By scrivening ages 

That mark and erase not. 

I was the Spark 

That under the embers 

80 



Kindled the life flame. 

Mine was the prow 

That sought out new waters. 

My hand directed 

The planting of standards. 

Mine was the voice 

That called in the conquerors 

Unto heart-service. 

Yet oh, earth dwellers, 
Hearken my history ! 
As watch-fires dwindle 
When watchers no longer 
Care for their warning; 
As war-tokens fail 
When warriors weary; 
So I became 
Divested of power. 
Looked I upon the world 
Strangely unheeded; 
Saw land and sea 
Striving and prospering; 
Saw all my own race 
Scattered and multiplied; 
Nations, communities. 
Far past my counting, 

8i 



Divided the earth-space 
Each to his liking. 
All whose beginning 
Was under my teaching 
Now had become 
Self-working, marvellous. 

Then as a hurt god 
Brooked I no pity — 
Called on Oblivion 
To send me a sleep-draught — 
Rose in my last strength 
And uttered a prophecy: 
"Desire for freedom 
Shall waken among ye 
Race of my choosing! 
Then to our home-land 
I, your spurned leader 
Waking, shall lead you." 

As a spent force 

Returning to chaos 

Is swept past its knowing 

To some immense destiny 

And thence, without knowledge, 

Exists in a form 



82 



Not Itself but mere being; 

So I was up-gathered 

And ceased In my knowing. 

***** 

Long did I lie 
Mere pulse-dust of ages, 
While the world history 
Chanted its measures; 
Until through my slumber 
Life-force came creeping — 
And all through my being 
I felt the glad vigor 
Surge in and sting me. 
Ha ! I awakened ! — 
Glad as a god 
I halted and hearkened. 

Whence came the night-cry? 

Not from the strange-throated 

Millions, race mingled. 

Who bear not their birth-rights ! 

Nay, not from aliens 

Self disinherited! 

Clear as the first call 

Of water to water 



83 



Over the spring-time, 
Trembling to enter 
Resuscitation, 
Came the sweet calling 
Across from the home-land, 
From the beloved. 
I flew to the ice-nest. 
Searching my man-brood. 

Aye it was time 

I answered your cry 

Oh race of my choosing! 

How came ye thus to this 

Season of sorrow, 

Freedomless, weaponless. 

Dumb among nations? 

Mind not your memories 

How in dim ages 

I led ye, my people. 

To conquer with strong sword 

The weakened sun-nations? 

Now I the Re-born 

Return at your calling ! 

As a glad eagle 

Poised for his swooping 

Stand I at last, 

84 



In glorious prime, 
On this shore of my seeking, 
Chff-bound and torrent-swung 
God-hewn and glorious. 

Hark to my strong song! 
I am the Norse God 
Fresh from the forces, 
Freedom my weapon. 
Forged by the ages. 
Voices of worlds 
Go by me in thunder. 
Time, as the dwelling 
Of earth-dreams, I conquer. 
Space, the unconquerable 
Limit of earth sight, 
I spare at my sword-point. 
And bid it return to 
Its birth-place in Being. 
Ties of the tenderest 
Making of women 
Snap in my holding. 
Song, with its sweetness 
Floating and following 
I with a wrenched blow 
Shatter its sequence. 

85 



Pity I stamp out, 

Yet grieve o'er the ashes. 

Gain, hke a star 

Blown out by night-winds, 

Headlong falls from me. 

Stripped of the world's gifts 

Stand I to conquer — 

Strong and untrammelled 

As the first world 

Rejoicing God made! 

Norway^ 1899. 



86 



TO A STATUE: MADONNA AND CHILD 

What Immortal guest art thou, 

Oh white enmarbled maid, 

Who standest In such wonder unafraid 

Upon the border of Time's closed abyss — 

Whose burled ages molded thee to this 

And left thee thus, with meek and crownless 
brow? 

In thy marble maidenhood, 
Thy bearing proud 
With lovely deprecation bowed. 
Thou art the form Incarnatlve 
Wherein doth live 

Eterne virginity of womanhood. 

See where hands have robbed thee of thy crown! 
But the attending years, that washed to white 
Thy carven robes with painted hues once bright — 
Have with their own true touch 
Left thee fairer clad In such 

A priceless patln-glow of amber brown. 

MInd'st thou maid where thou wert found 
Amid the broken marbles, In the gloom 

87 



Of Venice' stained and sunken room? 
Thou stood'st so meekly and alone, 
Thy loveliness half known, 

Thy meaning still in marble dumbness bound ! 

When a burst of sudden light 

Made the olden shadows start, 

Thy quiet heart, 

Noting nought of seekers near thy place, 

Dreamed back upon the hallowed grace 

Of hands that drew thee from the infinite. 

Nay, no passing of the throng and press 
Awoke thee. But thou heardest then 
The slow approach of one who, among men, 
Went lonely with thine image in his breast. 
Thou saw'st his eyes in recognition rest 
Upon thy consecrated loveliness. 

So cam'st thou strangely through the centuries 

Unsung as a mere violet well hid 

Within the wood's recesses, where all did 

Give unto thee thy slow-won store 

Of cosmic beauty which endows thee more 

Than sculptor's chisel, to the soul's true eyes. 

88 



Thy niche Is unadorned and bare 

Of votive offerings; 

No perfumed censer swings 

Across thy taintlessness; 

No priestly holiness 

Entunes its mystic ceremony there; 

Yet saint enshrined hath ne'er possessed 

Rarer gift of reverence 

Than the flame that burns Intense 

In the deep heart of thine own 

Priest and lord and slave in one, 

Whose mute service folds thee round with 
rest. 



89 



ART 

Too great is love while loving 

For heart to realize, 
Too dear is song while singing 

To treasure e'er it dies. 

But lying in seclusion, 
When life is overpast, 

The heart its joy remembering 
Creates the song at last. 



90 



i^m 



